A Pact is Made
by nightblight
Summary: Pure fluff, was clogging up the works in my head. Had to spit it out. GSR. Spoilers for Redrum, and Meet Market though they are minor. What about that gift?


Forgive me... This story was clogging up the works in my head and I had to get it out. My muse is happy now.

I am back at working on Crippling Reality, since there is now some space inside my brain. I should have something for you tomorrow.

That said. This is fluff - pure and simple

GSR all the way.

Disclaimer - They are not mine yet - though I am plotting.

Thanks to my beta on this - Fugimermaid, she is my twisted twin from another mother and a co writer of a novel we are working on, and her input is invaluable.

Any reviews will have me worshipping you forever.

**A Pact is Made**

The sun was already high in the Las Vegas sky, though it was only eight in the morning. Up and down the strip tourists were already making their way out into cool February air, heading for sustenance or perhaps a casino in hopes of an early morning jackpot.

In a small cozy apartment in one of the averagely priced neighborhoods two people stared at each other from opposite sides of the breakfast bar, though one was perfunctorily moving about the kitchen slicing a variety of fruits to accompany the light meal they'd prepared. Occasionally, he would stop for a moment and add a word to the rapidly filling crossword puzzle the two of them were completing.

Normally, during the course of their relationship they had shared places. Choosing one morning to go to Grissom's townhouse and perhaps another to Sara's one bedroom. It had never been an issue. Their choice was generally based on distance, exhaustion level, how stocked the refrigerator was, who had more laundry to do, and once they had actually stayed away from Grissom's place on purpose because both were too tired to change the sheets; thus avoiding a mess that was the result of a fondly remembered foray involving chocolate sauce and whipped cream the afternoon before.

But things had changed since Grissom's return. Sara had seemed reluctant to venture over to his place, so they had spent their days amongst the four walls of her cluttered and darkly hued apartment. Not that Gil Grissom minded, but it was just another small sign that things weren't exactly back to normal where their relationship was concerned.

At the moment the Sara sat at the breakfast bar eating her organic oatmeal and washing it down with a cup of lukewarm coffee. A normally relaxed breakfast routine had turned into something achingly awkward over the week since his return. Reaching across the table she pointed to number 45 down. "Dilapidated..."

She was hurt. She would never outright admit it to him, but over the weeks he's been gone Sara had unconsciously pulled away from what they'd cultivated between them.

Oh she was participating in their life together. She still helped him make meals, did his laundry with him, and even argued over their shared morning crossword puzzles. But this was a superficial form of involvement. Nothing you wouldn't necessarily do with a room mate or friend. And he knew it. The most remarkable thing was the sex, even though he wasn't a relationship expert by any means, he knew that a normal woman's response to her anger would be to cut him off like disinherited relative. Sara hadn't done this. She still shared her body freely with him; the two of them dancing towards a mutual release in the early light of morning, a tender waltz after washing away the dirt of the previous night, and just before crossing the line into the realm of an exhausted sleep. She allowed him to keep the safe haven he found in her, but had held herself back emotionally, much like a dog who had been kicked one time too many.

It was killing him, and he had no one to blame but himself.

It hadn't been the best of ways to tell her he was going. And sadly, it hadn't occurred to him that he was being his usual oblivious self until it was too late to do anything from across the country.

That realization had come after a few weeks of terse responses, light and unfocused emails and it had pained him to no end to realize that he had hurt her, once again, however unwittingly.

The morning he'd told her, they'd been laying in bed fully sated, hearts already slowing and impending sleep having dulled their senses. She'd taken his words quietly, nodding and smiling in acceptance, an odd look flitting across her face when she thought he wasn't looking.

It had taken him a while to label the look and he was horrified when he realized that it was raw fear mixed with the vulnerability of a child. It was a rare countenance for Sara, that's why his recognition of it had been so long in coming. He'd only seen it one other time and that was when she had been revealing what her family life at home had been like.

The Sara Sidle he had come to know had the heart of a lion and was of afraid of nothing.

Or so he thought…

Gazing at her sleepy form across from him he realized that it was about time that he put the mess he'd created, and one other matter, to rest.

He'd sent her something while he'd been gone.

It had been a discovery while studying at Walden's Pond, and he'd sent it to her intending to explain its meaning when he returned. She loved a good mystery as much as he did, and he'd imagined her looking up the nature of the item and trying to figure out its meaning. But he hadn't seen it since he had returned home. At first he'd been fine, figuring it was stored away some where, but numerous searches had turned up nothing and a light questioning on several different occasions hadn't garnered an intelligible answer.

Now he was panicked and this brought with it the need to set a few things straight.

He had wanted to discuss both his absence and the gift with her the minute he'd touched down, but tension between them had made it impossible until now.

Not - that things were any less stressed, but he simply couldn't take it any more.

A thick warm hand reached across the table, and stilled the spoon rising from the bowl.

After she'd dropped her oatmeal back into the dish she released the spoon and allowed him to take her cool slender hand in his; her mouth pursed in concern - warm brown eyes studying him curiously.

"I think we need to talk."

"Okay…" Her tone was hesitant and concerned all at once, and she swallowed uncertainly.

"I was an ass. I'm sorry about leaving the way I did. You know it wasn't about us right? You know it was only about work…" Blue eyes took in brown, as he leveled her with a darkly concerned stare.

Sara pulled her hand from his and stood up abruptly. Long slim fingers running along the thick material of her jeans; it was a nervous habit he knew all too well. "Okay…" The word was soft and accepting, though its underlying tenor led him to believe that it wasn't a true reflection of her feelings.

"No it's not okay. I need you to tell me what you're feeling, Sara. This is the only way we can fix this." He indicated the physical gap between them. "If you're angry, hit me. If you're sad, cry. I'll hold you. If you're disappointed tell me. I'll accept that. But I need you to tell me. I can't read minds, love. Hell, half the time I can't even read your emotions."

"What if I'm all those things and more?" She had made it as far as the sink, and dropped her half full bowl into it.

Warm arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her back into him his mouth finding its way into her hair. "Just tell me."

"This is not something you want to hear. I'll deal with it all I just need some time."

"No, Sara. I want to hear it. Everything, we're in this together. I know I forgot that at some point."

A tightly sarcastic laugh escaped her chest, as she shook her head. "No shit."

"I know…" Another kiss this time closer to her ear, "It will help. Tell me. Please."

"Alright…" She stared at the tiles on the wall in front of her sink, her hands resting loosely on the cold dark granite in front of her. There was visible tremble in them. "I'm disappointed that you didn't trust me enough to tell me how you were feeling before it got to the point where you felt the need to leave. That is part of being in a relationship; sharing, emotionally... I'm angry, that instead of discussing the offer with me before you made the decision to go, like most normal couples would - you made a cart blanche decision that affected us both without considering me at all. I'm hurt that you thought that I would in some way try to talk you out of doing something that I know you needed. And finally I'm afraid that in some way this was about us, and maybe you are just too afraid to tell me you want out. If that's the case…Just tell me..." Her voice indicated a serious level of defeat and acceptance; one which said _if this ends now, it is truly over there is no going back. _

There were tears in his eyes when he turned her around. Both hands moved from her waist up to clasp her face.

Her dark orbs shied away, but he forced her look at him. "I know it means little. But I am sorry. You know I'm not good at this. I'm still learning, okay? I've been a bachelor a very long time and we both knew I was going to make mistakes."

A grimace crossed her face, and she nodded. "This one was a whopper, Gil."

"I know. I knew it the minute I stepped off the plane, but it was too late to do anything about it. I tried – but long distance, that doesn't work very well for either of us."

She shrugged as if any dumb ass would have known that.

"I'll do whatever I have to try and make up for the disappointment, the hurt and the anger. Okay." His mouth landed on the tip of her nose, and he kissed it lightly drawing a small smile from her.

"That may take a while, bugboy." Her words quivered slightly as long slender fingers, danced over the thin material of his shirt.

His mouth found hers this time and he drew her into a languid kiss. "That's fine Ms. Sidle, however long it takes…"

"MMM…"

"And the fear about us, I'm ready to put to rest right now." He dropped his lips onto her forehead and bussed it lightly.

"Yeah?" Sara's hands were busily tugging his shirt out of his pants, her focus split between her actions and his words.

Grissom stilled her movements by pressing her palms against his chest. "Yeah, but you need to tell me something."

"Okayyyy." The word was drawn out and she looked at him nervously.

"The gift I sent you…where is it. I've looked for it."

The young woman in front of him went still almost immediately, a flash of embarrassment threading its way across her face. There was an underlying layer of regret that truly scared him.

"It was a chrysalis, or what was left of one. There wasn't actual caterpillar in it… I didn't think you would do that to a living creature. I mean cut down its habitat and mail it across the entire country."

"Dear God tell me you didn't throw it out."

"I admit I was thrown by it."

"Oh shit… you did."

She shook her head silently, a haunted look flitting across her face. "No, I left it in your office for a while, and then I took it home and put it away."

Standing body to body his hands still holding hers Grissom, studied the sadness that seemed to have filled the space behind her eyes. "Why? It was exactly what you said; an empty chrysalis. It was meant to symbolize our relationship." When confusion was added to the long list of negative emotions she appeared to be feeling he hurriedly continued on. "The cocoon represents us, Sara, the safety of what we've built together. We go out every day and we face horrors that very few people ever have to see. But when I come home to you I find shelter from it all – in our own little world. I had hoped that you felt the same." He kissed her forehead again. "Being away from you made it hit home all the more. I would go back to my room after my time at the research center, and realize how incredibly empty my life there was, without you."

There were tears in her eyes when he pulled back. "I do feel that way. I just…" One of her hands pulled free of his for a moment and she tugged nervously at a loose ringlet. "My father… he was a biologist at heart. He was into that kind of stuff too. Cocoons, empty hives, old bird nests. He would bring them all home, and show them to my brother and me. I mean when he was sober." There was a pause, as Sara's eyes became distant. "One time he brought home an injured bird and nursed it back to health. It was the most amazing thing. And all I could think at the time was how incredibly gentle his hands could be. But then he would turn around and hit my mother in a drunken rage, and I knew it was a lie. The chrysalis reminded me of him, that's all. I'm sorry." A small tear escaped down one creamy cheek. "I know I was being silly. I had it in the terrarium with Harry, and every time I walked in your office I would see it, so..."

"No, no, no…Love..." He pulled her to him; his embrace offering comfort against the images his gift had forced her to recall. "If I had known I never would have sent it."

"It's okay, I'd never told you, and you had no way of knowing. And it really was beautiful." She murmured against his shoulder.

"Can you tell me where you put it? You don't have to look at it again, but I need to see it. Is it here?"

Sara nodded and smirked, a blush of embarrassment still coloring her face. "Wait here. I'll get it."

"I can…" Grissom volunteered following her down the hallway and into her bedroom. "Just tell me where you put it."

"I'm a big girl, Gris and normally stuff like this doesn't bother me too much, but you were gone and I was feeling…." She stopped allowing the word to hang as she reached into her bottom drawer to retrieve the box that was carefully tucked inside.

"Vulnerable?" He stared at her bent form a moment, admiring the way the rich red of her tank top contrasted against the pale glow of her skin.

She squinted at him a moment and then nodded almost imperceptibly. Abandoned had been more the word she was thinking, but vulnerable fit the bill along with another slew of descriptive words; alone, lonely, afraid...

Standing she secreted the box behind her back and grinned salaciously at him. "I think you need to earn this back from me."

"Oh…" It was a challenge Grissom was more than willing to meet. "And how do I go about doing that?"

Sara moved closer, her mouth pursed. When bent into him the warmth of her breath on his neck caused a chill to track its way his back. "I'm sure you can figure that out on your own Dr. Grissom."

Turning his head quickly he caught her mouth with his, at the same time his arms wrapped around her; his hands reaching instantly for the prize.

She giggled into his mouth and tried to back away, but found she was locked into his embrace. Though he didn't appear to be, for a workaholic scientist Grissom was surprisingly muscular.

A struggle ensued and the two of them ended up on the bed tangled in each other and laughing hysterically. An elbow to Grissom's solar plexus drew a loud oof… from him as Sara flipped him over and pinned him to the bed, her long legs straddling him.

Grinning down at him seductively she leaned in. "Don't mess with me bugboy…"

Still clutching his aching belly, Gil Grissom nodded. "I won't. You're dangerous."

That was like an invitation to Sara; smiling devilishly she bent in further and kissed him languidly, before bringing her hands up to tickle him mercilessly.

With something akin to a loud roar, a rapidly flailing entomologist turned the tables on the tall brunette, but unlike his lover, he did not straddle her. Instead, he lay flat on top of her pinning her with his dead weight, while he retrieved the box, which had landed in the middle of the bed during the tussle.

"You're killing me here…" She moaned slightly, and struggled against the bulk pressing her into the mattress.

"Too bad." Grissom smiled an evil gleam in his blue eyes as he waved the package just out of her reach.

Sara stilled and stared up at the man above her. Seriousness over took her, and she licked her lips. "I missed you."

Grissom's free hand etched a gentle path along the side of her face. "I never want you to doubt us again, okay?"

She smiled sadly.

"May I?" he waved the box carefully in her direction.

A quick jerk of her head indicated her nervousness but agreement, so he rolled off of her and opened the box carefully before removing the small twig. Then he got up and moved to the head of the bed and took a seat there; his back resting against the pale wood of the frame. His voice was thick when he called to her. "Come."

On hands and knees she crawled across the softly patterned comforter and eased into an all too familiar position. Sometimes when both of them were too tired to sit at the breakfast counter, they would cuddle in bed; her back resting against his chest, and his head peering over her shoulder while they completed their morning crossword. The only difference was that this time the hands enveloping her; held a small twig with a delicate chrysalis.

Sara's heart sped up at the sight of the item, but she willed her thoughts away from anything negative and focused on the heat of her lover's body wrapped around hers.

Deftly, his fingers worked the small cocoon and Sara breath caught as it split open along a small slit in the side and revealed a stunning diamond ring.

Grissom could feel the woman in his arms stiffen slightly and then begin to tremble. Holding the ring out in front of her he tightened his grip as if afraid she was going to run. "Marry me?" he whispered into her hair.


End file.
